The Ranger's Heart: A Clean Army Ranger Romance Book Three

by Bree Livingston

  She nodded. “Good answer. Where are you from?”

  “New England. Delaware area.”

  East coast. “Oh, wow, that’s a commute to California.”

  He laughed. “Yes, but again, when love is on the line, you do what it takes. If I find it here in California, I would hope we could figure out a way to make it work.”

  Another good answer. “Would you be willing to move to California?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I guess it would depend on how I felt at the time.”

  “That’s a respectable answer. I love California, but if I was in love, who knows.” Except she did know. She wasn’t moving to the East Coast, ever.

  Just as she was about to cut the conversation, Daryl sidled up next to her. “I must steal our bachelorette away now.”

  He guided her to a corner of the room where it was empty, and the cameraman following behind trained the camera on them. A moment later, a second stationary camera was set up, and the mobile camera headed off, back into the crowd of men.

  “How are things going so far?” Daryl asked.

  Hillary had prepared her for the interviews. They would take place throughout the evening. “I’m having a blast. Although, I’ll admit it is a little overwhelming. There are so many great guys to choose from.”

  “It seemed you hit it off with Justin Turner.”

  “He seems like such a sweet man,” she said, palming her chest. “And that accent? What woman can resist that?”

  Daryl chuckled and looked into the camera. “Seems our bachelorette likes cowboys.”

  She shrugged, knowing she needed to keep the tease going. “Maybe. Landon was great too. I mean, I love a guy who can make me laugh.”

  “Is there anyone else who has your attention?”

  “Oh, you know. It’s too early to tell.”

  Again, he stared directly into the camera. “You hear that? It’s too early to tell, which means you need to stay in that chair if you want to know which bachelors make it through to the next round.”

  The cameraman nodded, and Daryl touched his earpiece. “That was great, Sophia. The producers tell me you’ve got a little more time, and we need more footage of you mingling. That guy over there looked good on camera. Maybe go chat with him again.”

  Sophia followed Daryl’s line of sight and froze. Thomas Gun. Seriously? There went her plan to avoid him. Oh well, she’d keep it together, and when it came time to choose someone, she’d politely send him packing.

  Gunner had moved all over the room, chatting with the other bachelors, trying to pick up on anything that could be off. Ryder was good with background checks, but nothing ever beat good old-fashioned gut instinct.

  This time, Ryder’s intel was correct. None of these men gave Gunner the impression that they wrote any of the letters. Most of them were just regular Joes who liked the idea of having a shot with a celebrity YouTube chef.

  “Uh, Thomas?”

  He turned and came face to face with Sophia. “Hello.” After their last chat, he had the distinct impression she was going to avoid him the rest of the night. And if he wasn’t assured of making it to the next round, he’d have been sweating it.

  She hugged herself and cast her gaze down. “I hadn’t planned on chatting with you again tonight, but the producers seem to think you look good on camera.”

  Wow. He’d never had a woman shoot his ego with a 12-gauge shotgun before. “Um, thanks?”

  Lifting her head, she rolled her lips in. “That didn’t sound as bad in my head.”

  “Really?”

  She shivered, and Gunner peeled his suit coat off, wrapping it around her shoulders. Her fingers gripped the lapels and pulled it tight. “No, that was a jerky thing to say, and now my size-nine foot is in my mouth. Thank you for the coat.”

  “No problem. The air is a little cool. I’m guessing the producers didn’t want you stuck in a room full of sweaty guys.” Even being insulted by her hadn’t lessened her appeal.

  She chuckled. “I’m sorry.” She stuck her hand out. “My name is Sophia Parker, and I’m a jerk. My last confession was one second ago.”

  Laughing, Gunner shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sophia Parker. My name is Thomas Gun. Most people call me Gunner.”

  Her green eyes sparkled as she stared at him. If he were a football game, cheerleaders would be spelling out T-R-O-U-B-L-E. “That name does seem to fit you better than Thomas.”

  “You think so?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, and really, I’m sorry for being mean.” Her cheeks turned a soft pink. “I’m not usually like that.”

  Gunner didn’t doubt that a bit. The impression he got was that she was a genuinely sweet woman with a good heart. “Honestly, if I were in your shoes, I’d be suspicious of people too. You should keep that during the show. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  “I think maybe that’s my biggest fear about this whole thing. Falling for someone and getting my heart broken.” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  He smiled. “You wouldn’t be human if it didn’t cross your mind.”

  She tucked a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear and pulled his coat a little tighter. “I worry about breaking hearts too. Not that I’m all that great, but I don’t want to hurt anyone.” She slipped her hand out of the coat and palmed her forehead. “Why am I saying all this stuff to you? The producers are going to kill me.”

  “I doubt it. You’re being open and vulnerable and honest. I’m thinking they’ll be eating it up. Plus, it’s good to know you’re not a man-eater.”

  A snort popped out of her, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. She was moving from beyond gorgeous to so cute he couldn’t breathe. A dull ache spread across his heart. Gunner was off-limits on so many levels, and she’d just confessed she didn’t want to get hurt. He certainly didn’t want to hurt this adorable woman. This assignment was a double-edged sword, and his legs were getting wobbly.

  She dropped her gaze as pink spread across her cheeks. “Just what every guy wants to hear. A ladylike pig snort.”

  “I think you’ll find this room is full of men who want just that, especially when yours is so cute.”

  She slipped out of his coat and held it out to him. “And with that, I think I need to mingle some more. Thank you for the chat.”

  He took her hand, planted a kiss on the back of it, and smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

  As she walked away, he could swear he heard her giggle. What a woman.

  Gunner liked her, and it had been…well, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d really connected with someone. Oh, he’d flirted with women he knew were unavailable. That was safe because they belonged to someone else and he couldn’t hurt them. Sophia wasn’t safe at all.

  What was he thinking? Connection? No. He was playing a part, and he was good at it. Sophia’s heart was safe, and so was his. It was an assignment and nothing more.

  One thing was certain. Noah was never sending him on one of these assignments ever again. Ryder or Mason could go next time. They wouldn’t get him within a million miles of something like this in the future without hog-tying him.

  Chapter 4

  After milling around and chatting with the men, Sophia was confined to the kitchen while Daryl interviewed bachelors to get their take on things so far, what they thought of the show, and, more importantly, what they thought of her. She wondered what they could possibly be saying, given the short amount of time they’d been together. Then again, wasn’t that the same thing she was doing?

  She’d been given a legal pad and a numbered list. She’d started the process of choosing her ten to chat with, giving each bachelor his own page in the legal pad with a list of pros and cons and her first impressions.

  There was only one problem. Her label-maker mind had firmly stamped Thomas Gun on one of the cards. Gunner. She liked the name. For some reason, it seemed to fit him.

  Her lips spread into a smile. Something about t
hat man just tickled her. She’d been a complete heel, and he’d been kind, thoughtful, and sweet, giving her his coat when he realized she was cold. She touched her chin to her shoulder and took a deep breath, inhaling his lingering scent. Good gravy, that man smelled good. To him, it probably looked so easy for her to hand his coat back, but she’d been tempted to ask if she could keep it.

  The kitchen door opened, and Daryl stepped in with a camera following him. “Sophia, have you made your list of bachelors?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He touched his earpiece and nodded. When he looked at her, he smiled. “We’ll wing it. Come on out here. We don’t want to keep the audience—or our bachelors—waiting any longer.”

  Wing it? The last time she did that, she set water on fire. How was still a mystery, but that YouTube show was still getting hits. She was pretty sure science classes were using it as a cautionary tale of what could happen when students didn’t follow directions.

  Daryl tipped his head toward the door. “Uh, time to go.”

  “Okay,” she said as her palms began to sweat. Daryl held the door, and as she passed in front of him, she said, “Thank you.”

  He looked directly into the camera. “America, isn’t she sweet? Just like her cookies. Which she’ll be giving out later tonight to the bachelors who make it to the next round.”

  Typically, the bachelorette would give out flowers, but this season, because Sophia was an internet cooking star, the producers—mostly Hillary—had convinced her to give out baked goods. She’d toyed with brownies, but her latest cookie concoction was a hit, and she wanted to share that with the man who could potentially be her Mr. Right.

  Once they were in the living room, cameras panned around and then landed back on her and Daryl. Suddenly, she felt so nervous. It was worse than greeting the bachelors because she knew she’d be sending ten guys home after these chats. None of them were bad. They just hadn’t connected. She’d chat with the guys she was on the fence about, and hopefully, the guys who were a yes wouldn’t worry too much when she didn’t call their names.

  Sophia clasped her hands in front of her, ready to announce the first bachelor she wanted to chat with. “The first—”

  Daryl held up his hand. “Remember that twist I spoke of earlier in the show?”

  Sophia swallowed hard. “Um, yes?”

  “Now, as you know, each season the bachelorette has time for one-on-one chats before the elimination, and from there she picks the ten guys she wants to keep. This season, it’s only six.”

  Six? Only six? She’d quickly made a mental list of ten men in no real order. Who would her six be?

  A chorus of mumbling came from the bachelors, and Daryl shushed them. “This is even a shock to our bachelorette. Until now, she’d been kept in the dark.” He paused, of course, letting the dramatic tension fill the air. “The second twist of the night is that there will be no one-on-one’s, and the bachelors won’t be chosen by Sophia this season.”

  Only six guys? No one-on-ones? And not picking the guys? What? This was going all sorts of wonky.

  “Every season, our sponsor, Mr. Matchmaker, provides personality tests for our bachelorette and bachelors.” Daryl smiled. “This is typically how the show finds the best matches.”

  Another round of murmurs erupted. Sophia was right there with them. She’d taken the test, but it was just a test. The thought of someone picking the men who would be on the show sent a panic through her.

  The host continued. “Based on those tests and a team of experts from Mr. Matchmaker, they determined the best six candidates for our bachelorette.” He grinned wider, if it was possible.

  Some of the bachelors grumbled loudly while others crossed their arms over their chests. They’d endured a long day of meetings and instructions, only to be filmed a few hours and sent home. Clearly, they hadn’t been expecting this either.

  Sophia was in shock. Who had been picked for her? Why was this happening? Why the change? Then it hit her. Hillary. Hot anger raced up Sophia’s neck to the tips of her ears. She glanced around, but Hillary was nowhere to be found. Convenient. Ohhh, when Sophia got ahold of Hillary, she was going to tie her up and dunk her in a vat of spiders.

  “So,” Daryl said, reaching for a platter holding six boxes of cookies. “Since our bachelorette is a chef, she chose to bake you cookies rather than handing out flowers. If you will, Sophia, please hand these out.” He swept his gaze over the guys. “If your name is called, please come forward, take your box, and move to the left side of the room.” He looked at her expectantly.

  She picked up the first box and read the name on top. “Uh, Justin Turner,” she said, catching herself before she sighed with relief. She did like his accent, and she didn’t care he’d lost his leg.

  Justin strutted to the front of the room, tipped his chin to her, and smiled. “Why, thank you.”

  Okay, she loved his accent. What girl wouldn’t?

  He took his box and then his spot on the left side of the room.

  “Next?” Daryl looked at her expectantly as she took the next box.

  “Blake Johnson.” She smiled and waited as Blake strode to her. Well, if anything, that personality test was hitting the mark so far. The blond surfer did check her boxes.

  She called out the next three names: Riley Scott, Landon Taffet, and Christopher Nelson. All three guys were ones she’d liked. All she could think was that the personality test was seriously accurate.

  Picking up the last box, she stared at the name. “Thomas Gun.” It was all she could do to hold in the squeal. Oh, she’d wanted him to stay. She tamped down the inner excitement. He was a nice guy, and having him as one of the six would make a good show. The producers even said he looked good on camera. Most likely, his personality test didn’t even match hers. He’d been picked only because of his looks.

  With a casual, relaxed stride, he made his way to her and stopped, taking the box of cookies from her. He lifted the box to his nose and took a deep breath. “These smell amazing.”

  “Uh, thanks. It’s a new recipe. I haven’t had anyone besides myself and a couple of friends try them.”

  The corners of his lips quirked up. “I have no doubt they’ll be delicious.” He winked and joined the rest of the bachelors.

  Daryl turned to the camera. “And there you have it. The six bachelors chosen to woo our bachelorette. Audience, you don’t want to miss the next ten weeks. Who knows what will happen?”

  The cameras stopped rolling, and Sophia felt herself deflate. A personality test had picked her bachelors, and now she’d have to spend the next ten weeks dating six men she may or may not have picked. Whatever. This show was staged, and she knew it. Still, it hurt knowing that Hillary had used her for ratings. That’s what Sophia got for hoping. It hadn’t worked with her brother, and it wouldn’t work for love either.

  Gunner watched as the bachelors who weren’t picked were escorted out of the LA mansion. As he’d roamed the room through the night, he’d picked up that this location was where the bachelors and bachelorette contestants typically stayed. It was a nice place in the hills of LA, equal in status to the Malibu mansion they were living in during the current season of the show. The Old-World Spanish style of the building was completely opposite of the glass-and-stucco palace next to the beach. If given the choice, it would have been hard for him to pick between the two. Both had their charms, but the location next to the beach squeaked to the lead by a hair.

  As the guys filed out, some looked absolutely dejected while others didn’t seem to care at all. He could see why Sophia struggled with lies and truth. Even with his trustworthy gut, he found it hard to gauge. But it had been a long night, and by the looks of Sophia, she’d not expected those twists at all.

  Gunner wasn’t surprised by the twists because the executive producer had to find some way to keep him on the show, but he’d grumbled along with the other guys just to make it look good. Still, part of him was a little disappointed bec
ause he wondered if she would have picked him for the next round.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get to the house, have a beer, and relax by the pool. I think I’m too amped to sleep tonight,” Riley Bloom said as the group of guys huddled together.

  Landon shook his head. “I’ll sit by the pool, but no drinking for me.”

  Gunner was relieved to hear that. He’d wondered if he’d be the only guy not drinking. Not only was he on the job, but he’d sworn off the stuff right before Pam hired him. It didn’t matter if Noah was his boss now or not. He’d made the promise to Pam, and he was keeping it. It was better that he did anyway. Gunner and alcohol didn’t mix well.

  “As long as milk is in the equation, I can park by the pool for a while,” Gunner said. He needed to be friends with these guys. Spending the next ten weeks with people he wanted to punch wouldn’t be fun for anyone.

  Justin Turner nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ve got my heart set on a tall glass of cold milk and this box of cookies Sophia made. They sure smell good.”

  The guy had that right. If everything Sophia made smelled as great as the box of cookies, she could lead a man around by the nose until kingdom come.

  Christopher joined in. “Uh, yeah. My mouth has been watering since she handed it to me.”

  “Right?” Riley said. “I’ve always been a sucker for home-cooked stuff.”

  Blake stuffed one hand in his trouser pocket. “Being on the surfing circuit, I couldn’t wait to come home to a from-scratch meal.”

  “You show me a guy who doesn’t love a good meal, and I’ll show you a guy who doesn’t know what’s good for him,” Justin said.

  They all laughed and nodded in agreement. Justin couldn’t be more right. Gunner’s time in the Army gave him a serious appreciation for good home-cooked meals. Army cooks were good, and he wouldn’t knock them, but he always looked forward to care packages from home.

  “Um, gentlemen?” The men stopped talking and turned. The director’s assistant and scheduler, Gwendolyn Kern, smiled as she held a clipboard. She’d been on one of the bachelor seasons of Celebrity Proposal, and if Gunner remembered correctly, she’d been the runner-up. There had been some controversy with the bachelor getting cozy with one of the contestants. Later, it was found out that they’d known each other through a mutual friend.